


What if I’m someone I don’t want around?

by justhockey



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Insecurity, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Unrequited Love, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:04:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhockey/pseuds/justhockey
Summary: Tyler isn’t in bed beside him, and his clothes and shoes are gone. The room is silent, except for maybe the noise Jamie’s heart makes as it shatters in his chest.He’s pretty sure that sound is deafening.
Relationships: Jamie Benn/Tyler Seguin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 264





	What if I’m someone I don’t want around?

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Falling_ by Harry Styles.

It’s like, Jamie has kind of always known, right? He wasn’t really aware of it at first, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. The connection was instant, electric. Even after all he’d heard about Tyler, after being warned that he was trouble, unprofessional, _problematic_. They just. Clicked. And that was that, they were the best of friends and the best of line mates, and they proved everyone wrong - about the Stars not being good enough, and about Tyler being anything less than fucking _unreal_. 

_Fuck_ it’s like they were unstoppable. When they were on the ice together no one could could touch them, still can’t for the most part. So Jamie couldn’t help it, really, he was totally unprepared for someone like Tyler crashing into his life. He could never have anticipated that he would fall in love with him. 

But he did anyway. 

And it’s been years now. Years of holding his breath every time Tyler wraps an arm around his waist or rests his head on his shoulders. Because he’s so fucking _tactile_, it’s like Tyler can’t breathe, can’t function without constantly touching someone else, and that someone is usually Jamie. Which is something he both loves and hates, because he’ll always want Tyler close to him, in any way that he can have him, but god it’s hard, knowing that this is the only way he’ll ever get him. 

It should be enough, is the problem. Being Tyler’s best friend should be more than enough. And it _is_, he tells himself everyday. Because it would be selfish beyond belief to expect more from Tyler, who has given his heart and soul to Dallas and to the Stars. Jamie would never ask Tyler to give those things to him, as well. 

And it’s not like Tyler has ever shown any real interest anyway, not beyond the cuddling and the teasing that he blesses everyone else on the team with, too. Except. Well. There have been times, moments, glances, when Jamie has thought _maybe_. Maybe this could be more, maybe if I just told him. 

But no. 

Tyler is too important to Jamie, and they are too important to the team. He would never risk Tyler’s friendship or the connection that they have. Because that’s more than enough, it’s _everything_. And he’d rather have Tyler’s friendship for the rest of his life, than lose that in the pursuit of something more. 

*

They’re in LA when the puck lands on Tyler’s stick after a pass from Jamie. It finds the back of the net to break the tie, just as the buzzer sounds. And that’s _always_ an incredible feeling, except with this win they’ve made the fucking _playoffs_. 

Fuck. 

Jamie doesn’t even have time to process what’s just happened before Tyler is crashing into him and screaming incoherently down his ear. He instinctively wraps his arms around Tyler and allows himself to enjoy the 0.3 seconds of bliss before the rest of the team slam into them, a sweaty, ecstatic heap. 

He hears a “fuck yeah baby” in Tyler’s voice, that would be lost in the shouting of everyone else if it weren’t for the fact that his face is pressed into Jamie’s neck and he can feel Tyler’s breath on his skin. 

Jamie’s heart stutters. 

Yeah, this is more than enough. He wouldn’t change this for the world. 

*

“We did it again, bud,” Tyler says as they’re walking down the hallway back to their hotel rooms. 

They’d been out celebrating for a good few hours, because how could they _not?_ But Jamie is still the captain, of a team that’s heading to the playoffs no less, so when everyone was starting to reach the messy side of drunk he made them all call ubers and head back to the hotel. 

Naturally he’d shared with Tyler.

“We did. That goal, Segs. Fuck me,” Jamie chuckles, shaking his head as he remembers it. 

“Was all you, Chubbs, that pass was unreal.”

“Nah buddy. Ty. Fuck, only you could have done that,” Jamie praises him. 

He’s trying to slot his keycard into the door but Tyler has his hands on his shoulders, shaking him so much he’s struggling to hold the card steady. He laughs, drunk off the win and the alcohol and the sensation of Tyler’s hands digging into him. 

“Get off me, you dick,” Jamie laughs, trying to keep his voice down so he doesn’t wake anyone. 

Tyler lets go, but not without complaining vociferously, as if letting go of Jamie is the worst possible suggestion in existence. 

He settles for resting his forehead on Jamie’s back instead, and Jamie has to take a second to make his eyes focus; having Tyler so close to him is intoxicating. 

Without Tyler shaking him, Jamie finally manages to get his hotel room door unlocked and he walks inside. He turns around to say goodnight to Tyler, but he’s already followed Jamie into the room and closed the door behind them. He sucks in a breath. They don’t share a room anymore, haven’t in a really long time, so he’s not entirely sure why Tyler is now in his, kicking off his shoes and throwing himself down on the bed. 

And like, Jamie doesn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth or whatever. And it’s not that he’s drunk, per say. But he has had enough alcohol that his inhibitions are slightly less controlled. So when Tyler is laying on his bed with his shirt bunched up so Jamie can see the lower part of his stomach, and he just scored an absolutely _filthy_ game-winning, playoff-clinching goal, like. He’s kind of terrified he’s going to monumentally fuck things up. 

“Uh,” he says, because he doesn’t know _what_ to say. 

Tyler sits up, and he’s smiling almost shyly. Jamie knows he isn’t drunk, because they drank the same amount, but like. He’s not sure what else he can blame the look in Tyler’s eyes on. Because if it was anyone else looking at him like that, some random guy or girl in a club, he’d think they wanted to. Y’know. 

Except this is Tyler, and Tyler doesn’t, _can’t_ want that. It’s not possible. 

“Uh,” Tyler mimics, laughing when Jamie rolls his eyes. 

He isn’t sure what to say or do, and that’s new for them. Normally they exist around each other with such ease and familiarity, so it’s kind of throwing Jamie off. He turns around and toes off his shoes, leaving them next to Tyler’s. He tries to ignore the voice in his head that’s yelling at him about Tyler being right behind him, and tugs off his t-shirt, tossing it into the open bag he’s left on the floor. His heart is racing like he’s just done a shift on the PK when he turns back around. 

Tyler is standing again now. His eyes shift to Jamie’s chest and his brain momentarily stops working, because, like. There’s no mistaking that. Tyler was checking him out. 

“Jamie,” Tyler says, his voice sounding way hotter than it has any right to. 

“Hey,” Jamie replies nervously. 

“Do you have any idea how fucking _good_ you look right now?” Tyler asks, “Like, shit, Jame, you _always_ looks so good and it’s not fair.”

Jamie’s brain is short circuiting as Tyler steps closer and closer to him. He knows he should he say something, stop him, because this is just the alcohol and the win and the excitement talking. It’s not Tyler, this isn’t _them_, so he needs to put a stop to it. 

Except then Tyler’s hands are on his arms, sliding up over his shoulders, gripping the hair at the base of his neck. 

“You can tell me to stop, I’ll leave,” Tyler says, his mouth mere inches away from Jamie’s. 

Jamie definitely doesn’t want to, wouldn’t even know how. 

Throwing all caution to the wind he surges forwards, catching Tyler’s mouth in a searing, exquisite kiss. 

Then they’re a tangle of limbs as they kiss and grasp at each other, falling onto the bed and losing their clothes in the process. 

*

When Jamie wakes the next morning it’s early, before his alarm, and the sun is just starting to shine through the curtains in his hotel room. He feels so warm, happy, _at peace._

Last night with Tyler, it was everything he’s been wanting for years. No amount of dreaming or wishing could have prepared him for how it felt to have Tyler underneath him, their lips pressed together as they panted and groaned into each other’s mouths. It was fucking unbelievable, and all Jamie wants to do is tug Tyler back into his arms and kiss him, morning breath and all. 

But as he’s about to turn over, he realises he can’t feel Tyler behind him. 

He sits up, and his heart sinks as he takes the room in. Tyler isn’t in bed beside him, and his clothes and shoes are gone. The room is silent, except for maybe the noise Jamie’s heart makes as it shatters in his chest. 

He’s pretty sure that sound is deafening. 

Tyler is gone. 

And like, it’s not as if Jamie thought everything was going to be easy this morning. He excepted to have the conversation about them, and knew there would be a lot of things to discuss. But still. He expected Tyler to at least be in the room. 

His alarm rings out as the heaviness begins to settle in his chest. 

It was just sex to Tyler. 

He goes through the motions of getting dressed but he’s not really aware of what he’s doing, it’s just muscle memory at this point, because he can’t think or feel. 

His hands shake as he closes the door behind him and heads down for team breakfast. 

When he sees Tyler he freezes for a second. He’s sitting with Dobby and Roope, and he throws his head back in laughter at something one of them has said. Jamie tries to ignore the way his heart tightens, tries to forget about the way it felt to kiss down Tyler’s neck last night. Tyler looks normal, happy because they’ve made it to the playoffs again, but nothing more, nothing out of place. 

Jamie grabs a coffee and an apple, because he doesn’t think he can face anything else right now, then he sits down with Bish, Rads, and Pavelski. He doesn’t acknowledge the strange looks his gets from them over the fact that he’s not sitting with Tyler, because he doesn’t even know how to begin to explain it. 

He avoids talking to anyone when they board the plane as well. Tyler hasn’t spoken to him once all morning, and he ignores the seat beside Jamie and continues down the aisle to take a seat at the back of the plane. He takes a deep breath, then flashes a smile at Klinger, who’s frowning as he glances between Jamie and Tyler.

Jamie figures that if he acts as normal as possible, all of this will go away without anyone _really_ noticing that something is wrong. 

He tries not to listen to the niggling voice in the back of his mind saying that he’s ruined everything, that he’s lost Tyler _and_ destroyed their chances at the playoffs before they’ve even began. 

He tries not to let the heartbreak show on his face, even though inside it feels like he’s dying. 

*

Playoffs are days away and Tyler still isn’t speaking to him. 

Like, sure, they talk on the ice, and at practices, and occasionally in the locker room. But it’s always about hockey, and the team, and strategies and playoffs. Never anything more or less. And he won’t even look Jamie in the eye when they talk. 

He can’t help the sickly feeling that rises every time he looks at Tyler. He can’t help but worry that maybe he took advantage of him. 

That night, the night everything changed, maybe Tyler _was_ drunk. Maybe he’d had more than Jamie thought, and when he woke up he was filled with disgust over his best friend taking advantage of him. 

But then he reminds himself that Tyler made the first move, that when Jamie stopped while they were still half dressed and mouthed _are you sure_ into his skin, Tyler whispered _yes_ against his lips and started to unbutton his shirt. 

Tyler wanted it then, he just regretted it when he woke up. Or maybe he didn’t regret it, but it was just sex to him, and he realised half way through that it was so, _so_ much more to Jamie, so he panicked. Or maybe..

Maybe. 

A thousand maybes cross through his mind as he packs up his bag in his locker. He tries to pretend like his hands aren’t shaking as he hears Tyler’s voice fade behind the closing door of the locker room. 

He keeps his back to the room because he can’t stand to face the rest of the team. They all know something is wrong. No amount of faking it has convinced the guys that everything is ok, they all know each other too well. So he waits until he thinks the room is empty before turning around to leave. 

Except Bish is standing there, eyes trained on Jamie, waiting for, well. He isn’t sure what. 

“Uh, hey,” Jamie says, his voice hoarse from yelling at practice. 

Bish nods, “So what’s going on?”

Jamie’s coughs, scratches his head nervously because he’s not ready for this conversation and he doesn’t know how to have it. 

“Just, you know, focused on playoffs,” Jamie’s says to try and placate Bish. 

It doesn’t. He sits silently back down on the bench, clearly waiting for Jamie to follow suit. And Jamie is the captain, ok, but goalies are fucking _weird_, man. So he drops his bag onto the floor and sits back down, carefully avoiding direct eye contact with Ben. 

“Bud, what’s going on?”

“I told you,” Jamie lies. 

Ben shakes his head, “What’s going on with you and Seggy?”

Jamie _doesn’t_ choke, ok? He’s just got a tickle in his throat. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Bish laughs. “Yes you fucking do, we _all_ know something is going on, so spill.”

And like, Jamie knows he can trust Ben. He could trust anyone on the team with this, but it’s still hard. Jamie isn’t like Tyler. Everyone knows Tyler likes guys, but this is a first for Jamie. Jamie thought he was straight until Tyler came along, and he’s never actually talked about this with anyone, not even Jordie. The first time anyone ever found out that Jamie wasn’t straight was the night he and Ty slept together, and that ended with Jamie alone. 

So it’s scary, when he finally opens his mouth. 

“We slept together,” he confesses. 

And it’s both absolutely terrifying _and_ a weight off his chest, like things feel a little lighter for the first time since he shook Tyler’s hand. 

The look on Bish’s face isn’t exactly what Jamie expected. He looks vaguely surprised, but not at all as shocked as Jamie expected. He waits for him to say something. 

“Okay,” he nods, “so, what? You’re not talking now?”

“He kinda just, left? I woke up the next morning and he’d gone back to his hotel room, and he’s barely looked at me since.”

“LA?” Ben asks, and Jamie nods in confirmation. “You need to talk to him, bud.”

Jamie laughs, “Between him avoiding being alone in a room with me and barely looking at me on the ice, when exactly am I supposed to do that?”

“Now? Just go to his fucking house and _talk_ to him! Because whatever the deal is, playoffs start in four days and we’re gonna be a flaming shit show if you two are still like this,” Bish says, throwing his arms out in frustration. 

Jamie knows he’s right, and he knows that if he lets this carry on for much longer then he’s failing as captain, but god, he feels sick. The thought of facing Tyler, especially after so long, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to do that. He’s so scared of hearing that Tyler hates him and wants nothing more to do with him, even if they’re already acting like strangers. But at least if he doesn’t know for definite then he can pretend things will still be ok, that he hasn’t lost Tyler for good. 

“Talk to him,” Bish repeats as he stands up and slings his bag over his shoulder. 

“Hey,” Jamie calls out just as Ben is about to leave. 

He turns around and raises an eyebrow, waiting for Jamie to speak. 

“You’re not, I mean. You’re not, like, surprised?” Jamie stammers out. 

“About you and Segs?” He asks, and Jamie nods. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly _expecting_ it, but you two have always been weird about each other so, I don’t know man, I don’t think any of us care as long as you’re both happy and the team isn’t affected.”

Jamie nods, “Thanks.”

Bish doesn’t bother replying, just waves a hand as he leaves the locker room and Jamie in silence. 

The weird goalie is right, he has to talk to Tyler. 

*

His heart is in his mouth when he pulls up outside of Tyler’s house. He hasn’t been there since the night before they left for LA, and the fact that everything looks the exact same is a stark reminder of just how much has changed between him and Tyler. 

It takes everything in him to get out of the car and walk up the driveway. The walk feels longer than it ever has done before, but still not long enough somehow, and his arm feels like lead when he lifts it to knock on the door. He knows Tyler is home, the car he drove to practice is sitting in the driveway, but it takes almost a minute until he hears any noise behind the door. 

The first thing he sees when the door opens is Gerry’s head pop out, and then his entire body starts to wag when he sees that it’s Jamie. 

“Gerry, Gerry you idiot, get in-“ 

Tyler stops mid sentence when he sees that it’s Jamie Gerry is going crazy for.

“Hi,” he says, sounding breathless all of a sudden. 

Jamie clears his throat, “Hey. Can I come in?”

Tyler just kind of stares for few seconds, as if he can’t believe that Jamie is really there, or like he wishes he _wasn’t_. But then he smiles, and Jamie knows it’s not a proper smile, but it’s the first time Tyler’s directed one at him in two weeks, so it knocks the breath from his lungs. 

“Yeah of course,” Tyler says, tugging on Gerry’s collar while he holds open the door for Jamie to step inside. 

He closes it behind him, and can’t help but think about that night, when Tyler followed him into his hotel room and closed the door behind them. God, if Jamie had known, if he’d had _any_ idea that night would leave them like this, like strangers, he never would have done it. He’d spent years completely unwilling to go there because Tyler was too important for him to lose, and one stupid fucking night screwed it all up. 

“Can I get you anything?” Tyler asks awkwardly, as they walk into the kitchen. 

Jamie shakes his head, before realising that Tyler can’t see him with his back turned. 

“No, thanks,” he says, hating the way he feels like a stranger in Tyler’s home, for the first time ever. 

“So what’s up?” Tyler asks as he hops onto one of the bar stools in the kitchen. 

Jamie frowns, as if it’s not blatantly fucking obvious why he’s there. 

“Uh, I figured that was pretty obvious,” Jamie verbalises as he leans back against the kitchen counters. 

Tyler smiles again, and it breaks Jamie’s heart. Because he knows what Tyler’s smiles look like, they’re the fucking sun they’re so blinding, but this. This is weak, nervous, ashamed, perhaps. He’s not entirely sure, but it’s not his Tyler, and he hates the thought that he’s the one who’s caused it, that he’s the one who’s dulled Tyler’s shine. 

“Nope,” Tyler says. 

It’s obvious he’s trying to be appear unbothered, but the way his voice shakes when he speaks is proof enough that Tyler is scared too. It’s probably fucked up, but that makes Jamie feel a little better, that Tyler is feeling this too and that he’s not entirely alone. 

“Ty, come on,” Jamie practically pleads, and the smile falls from Tyler’s face. 

“I’m sorry, Jamie, fuck, I’m so sorry,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper as he talks to the floor, refusing to look up at Jamie. 

“Listen it’s fine, ok. What happened, happened, it’s done. But we can’t carry on like this, for the team’s sake.”

Jamie is watching Tyler as he speaks, waiting for Tyler to react or look up at him, or _something_. He can’t help but notice Tyler flinch when he says _it’s done_. 

“Yeah, right, the team,” Tyler agrees, except he still can’t meet Jamie’s eye and his voice cracks half way through talking. 

“Tyler,” Jamie says, stepping closer to him. 

Tyler flinches, “it’s fine.”

Jamie knows it’s not. He can read Tyler as easy off the ice as he can on it. Things are so far from fine, but Jamie’s not exactly sure why. He doesn’t know what part of this is hurting Tyler, but he needs to find out and fix it, because seeing Tyler look so _broken_ is fucking killing him. 

“It’s clearly not,” Jamie starts, “so why don’t you talk to me, tell me what’s going on?”

Tyler laughs like he’s embarrassed, then raises his hands to cover his face. His shoulders start to shake, and Jamie would have thought he was laughing if he didn’t know Tyler as well as he does. 

“Ty, please, tell me how to fix this? I’m so, _so_ fucking sorry if I, you know, took things too far, took advantage of you, ok? I-“

Jamie doesn’t get chance to finish his sentence before Tyler is making eye contact for the first time since they started talking. 

“What? Jamie, you didn’t _take advantage_ of me? I wanted you so much, that night,” he confesses, and Jamie knows from the look in his eyes that he’s being sincere. 

“Then why did you leave? I woke up and you were _gone_, then you just kept avoiding me!”

Jamie doesn’t want to get angry, and he definitely doesn’t mean to raise his voice. It’s just hard, harder than he was expecting, even. Because if Tyler wanted him as much as he’s saying he did, it doesn’t make sense that he just upped and left before the sun had risen. 

Tyler laughs again, and Jamie knows it’s a defence mechanism, because nothing about this is funny. 

“To make it easier.”

This time it’s Jamie’s turn to laugh, “None of this is _easy_, Segs.”

He wants to demand answers, but he knows that he doesn’t really have the right. He’s had two weeks to do this, to come and talk to Tyler and put whatever is going on behind them, but he was too much of a coward to come until someone else told him he had to. So he’s in no position to show up at Tyler’s home and just demand he explain everything, especially when Tyler is looking more vulnerable than he did the first time they met, right after Tyler got off the plane from Boston. 

So Jamie bites his tongue and waits. Tyler’s hands are shaking as he runs them through his hair, and Jamie hates himself for remembering how good it felt to run his own hands through Tyler’s curls. 

“I left because I figured it was easier than having you _ask_ me to leave,” Tyler whispers, unable to even look in Jamie’s direction. 

His heart stops. 

“Ty, I would never have asked you to leave, why would you think that?” 

Jamie crosses over the few feet between them so he’s standing right in front of Tyler. He wants to reach out, wrap Tyler in his arms, but he doesn’t, he’s not sure it’s the right thing to do. So he just stands close and waits for Tyler to look up at him, feels his breath catch in his throat when he gets to see Tyler’s eyes close up, for the first time in what feels like an eternity. 

“I just,” Tyler shrugs, takes a deep breath before continuing, “no one has ever wanted me for anything other than sex, ok? And I figured that was all you wanted me for, too.”

And if Jamie’s heart wasn’t already shattered, it sure fucking is now. He has no idea what to say or do. Because fuck _anyone_ who ever made Tyler feel like he’s only good for sex, like he’s not enough to stick around for. Jamie’s never heard anything so blatantly fucking _wrong_ in his life. Tyler is _everything_, he’s certainly far too good for Jamie, and the fact that he thought Jamie could just fuck him and then pretend like it never happened? It makes his heart ache. 

“Tyler-“

“It wasn’t just sex to me. And I know that’s not fair on you, because that wasn’t what you signed up for. Which is why I left before you woke up. It was just easier than having you reject me,” he pauses to take a breath before continuing, “It’s why I ignored you, too, I just didn’t want to look at you and see nothing, no feelings or whatever. Sorry.”

“Tyler, Tyler look at me,” Jamie says.

He finally reaches out. His hands on Tyler’s face is the first contact they’ve had off the ice since that night, and Jamie’s mouth immediately goes dry. He cups Tyler’s jaw and tilts his head up so he has no choice but to look directly at Jamie. 

“That’s _exactly_ what I signed up for.”

Tyler’s eye widen in shock, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“What are you saying?” He murmurs, barely audible. 

“I’m saying I’m in love with you, Ty. I was never gonna ask you to leave, I was going to ask you to _stay,_” Jamie promises, his voice so soft and gentle it brings tears to Tyler’s eyes. 

“You love me?”

And Jamie hates the uncertainty in his voice. He hates that someone ever made Tyler doubt himself and his worth so much that he can’t believe Jamie could love him, could want him like this. 

“I love you,” he promises. 

“This isn’t because you feel sorry for me, right? Or because you’re worried about the team? Because if it is I-“

Jamie can’t take another second of doubt, so without giving himself any time to second guess his actions, he leans forward and catches Tyler’s mouth in a kiss. He can’t help the moan that slips through his lips as they kiss; he’s missed this like he’d miss hockey if that was taken from him. 

Tyler’s hands finally reach up to grasp at Jamie’s t-shirt, and he pulls him in between his legs so he can wrap his arms around Jamie’s waist. Jamie hasn’t felt so at ease in weeks - kissing Tyler again feels like a breath of fresh air. 

“You really want this?” Tyler asks, pulling back so he can watch Jamie. 

He smiles, “I want this, I want _you._”

Tyler nods, “Ok.”

They lose themselves in a kiss as they make their way to Tyler’s bedroom. They know they have things to talk about, decisions to make, but for right now that doesn’t matter. 

The only thing that matters is each other.

**Author's Note:**

> This is set at the end of this current 2019-2020 season.
> 
> It’s obviously entirely fictional :)


End file.
